Come Here Often?
by OliviaHills
Summary: In which Shane has a good idea, Rick rolls with it, Carl tries to be smooth and Sophia is the unsuspecting victim. Carl/Sophia fluff.


I do not own the Walking Dead.

Sophia died. DIED. I mean, I didn't much expect her to live, but it was a shocker even for me. I would've liked to see the Carl/Sophia young love blossom, not just somewhat bloom in season one. I saw her come out the barn and was just like DAAUMM she a zombie!

And that's how this was born, I guess. LOL IDK.

Anyway, this is still set in the outskirts of Atlanta, and Sophia, Carol and Ed are still a big (somewhat) happy, walker-free family. And after Rick and the group find their way back.

* * *

><p>"Yeah, so remember that girl back in high school, Lizzie Evans?" Rick isn't really listening at the moment, just grunting when necessary and nodding when needed, humoring Shane as he scanned over the wooded campsite, "well, one day she decides to call me, tellin me to meet her for dinner tomorrow and how she wanted to talk to me bout something, but wouldn't you know she calls right before the Outbreak, and when I get there, she's already foaming at the mouth—"<p>

"Dad? Shane?"

The sheriff finally lets out a sigh of relief as his son comes around the corner, little Polo shirt loosely hanging off his thin frame and hair matted and grimy like the rest of them, though the face-consuming smile he sported gave Rick a sense that he had something exciting (well, anything was more exciting than Shane's stories) to tell them. The sheriff nodded, as did the deputy.

"Go on Carl. You got our attention."

"Well…" his son hesitated, and Rick took notice of the cleanness of his skin and the scent he sported; obviously, he had been bathing much more than usual, and Rick could track the smell of cheap cologne on his boy's clothing. He raised an eyebrow, sneaking a glance at Shane, who was preoccupied with a flustered Carl. He waited until his father looked once again, and continued.

"Well…Dad, how did you get mom to like you?"

Rick smiled, scratching the irritating stubble on his chin and thinking back, to the days without the need for survival, "Your mother and I had known each other for a long time. She lived in the neighborhood for years, and so did I; y'see, if you were born in Atlanta, there's a good chance your stayin' in Atlanta. So, overtime, we just…well, we just clicked, I guess. Why?"

"Yeah, pipsqueak," Shane added, ruffling Carl's greasy brown hair, "never remember you bein interested in that sappy lovey-dovey stuff."

The boy made a face of utter disgust, as if he had just been offered a plate of Walker guts to eat instead of just an innocent question; it was also when Rick noticed how he wrung his hands in haste, how he began to bite his lip hard enough to draw blood, how he glanced back at the busy-bodies at the camp to see if any wandering ears had been tuning into their conversation.

"Ew, Shane. Lovey-dovey is gross."

"Then why you askin' bout it?" his father joked, and Carl bit his cheek.

"I was just wonderin how you would impress a girl," he said non-chalantly, making eye contact with only the clouds in the sky and rocking on his feet, "y'know…not that I want to impress someone."

He began to count of the names of all the females in the group, narrowing them down to someone around Carl's age group, and it hit him like a bullet, "Sophia?"

He hit it; immediately, Carl's face reddened like a tomato, and he shook his head vigorously to deny the truth.

"N-no! Well…well kinda…yeah…" the boy stumbled over his words, glancing back at the campsite. A ways away, the sheriff caught sight of the girl and her mother hanging up articles of clothing on the line, her drunken husband standing somewhat near, a beer in hand. He watched, as Carol walked away to fetch more clothing, and Ed dozed off under the tree, leaving a lone Sophia folding clothes.

"How would I talk to her?" he asked aloud, and Rick was unsure if he was talking to them or just thinking out loud, "I feel like I'll mess up if one word comes out of my mouth…"

Initially, Rick opened his mouth to give his son some helpful advice, when another voice overshadowed his own.

"You came to the right place, Carl m'boy," Shane swung an arm around the boy's shoulder, nodding, "you're looking at the King of getting women."

"More like the King of getting women to go away."

"Shut up, Rick." The deputy shot back, focusing back on Carl, "trust me, I know exactly how to make a lady love you. One line from me, and she'll be begging you to be her boyfriend."

Carl nodded, eyes glazed in awe, while his father sat quietly in the background, watching the scene unfold. Shane beckoned him closer.

"Okay, kid. You gotta listen to me; first you have to…"

He whispered in his ear, and Carl nodded excitedly, sneaking glances at the lone Sophia every few seconds while Rick still sat quietly, still amused and still waiting for the scene to unfold.

* * *

><p>She hadn't even imagined one person could sweat so much.<p>

The water was coming in droves, through her head, her back, her neck; anywhere sweat could get though, it got through. By the time she had passed the two hour mark of being outside, it felt as if the sweat had drenched her bones, and no matter how many dips in the river she took, she would still be sweaty and gross and smelly, and no one would want to approach her.

"Hey, girl."

That's why when she turned, and saw the Grime's boy leaning against a tree, Sophia was somewhat in awe.

"Come here often?"

"….I live here?" she raised a brow, turning away from the clothing, "I don't have much of a choice, y'know."

His smile hadn't faltered; he pursued still, "Well, Sophia, are your feet tired?"

"No? Why?"

"Because you've been running through my mind all day," he tipped the hat closer to his eyes, and the blonde just…well all she could do was stare in complete surprise, "you a parking ticket?"

"What?" she asked.

"Because you got _fine_ written all over you." Carl narrowed his eyes at a sitting Shane, clearing his throat awkwardly and managing not to make eye contact with his crush, "_what_, Shane?"

"Okay, Carl?" she interjected, completely confused at his sudden (and somewhat pompous) actions; he rubbed his head, face red as a tomato, "what's this all about?"

A few seconds past. He looked at her, and she looked at him, and they both stared at each other for a time, while the heat of the Southern sun beat down on their heads. Finally, he opened he mouth unsurely, and mumbled something under his breath.

"Mrmph…"

"What?" she leaned in, sticking out her ear, "What, Carl?"

"I…I like you, Sophia…" quietly, he stumbled over his words, and the girl simply looked at him instead of saying anything, "I mean, I-I know we haven't known each other for very long, but I think you're smart and really cool, and I just wanted to get to know you more…"

Carl finished. He took a step to leave, a depressed sigh sounding from his lips, when something warm touched his cheek. A quick peck, and she was gone.

He turned back, a look of awe on his features.

"Wha—"

"I think what you did was dumb," she began, and he let his face fall just a bit, "but sweet. Dumb, but sweet, Carl. I'll give you another chance to make things right. And this time," she laughed softly, returning back to the clothesline, "don't use any dumb pick up lines, okay?"

"Okay." He too, chuckled, walking away from the busy girl, receiving looks from her mother and father as they passed by, but he paid it no heed; he was a little boy in love, and not even the apocalypse could take away that right. Carl walked back to his campsite, still sporting a smile of victory.

"Good for him." Rick and Shane watched the entire scene, both proud that the boy was able to make a move, though on his own accord; Rick would have to talk to Shane about those lines later, but for now, he reveled in the fact his Carl finally found just a bit of happiness in a dead world.

"Good for him."


End file.
